Blood Is Thicker Than Beer
by Iggy Giggle
Summary: Four things Finland could do without: cleaning, an angry Norway, a convenient cliff, and seeing Denmark naked. Well, you can't always get what you want. Nordic-centric. SuFin, DenNor.


**Hellooo~ This is my first fanfic *heh heh* but i got help from my awesome onee-chan Anne Oying, it started of serious enough - but that failed and it became a bit spoofy~ hope you enjoy! :3 **

**Blood Is Thicker Than Beer**

Finland smiled as he fluffed up the pillows Sweden had given him before carefully rearranging them on the floral chair that Sweden had made. He was never fond of cleaning – besides the general boredom the activity supplied, it also none-too-kindly reminded him of the fact that he hadn't bought a single piece of furniture in his house (unless you counted that admittedly tacky plastic Moomin wall clock hanging in his hallway, which Sweden never did).

But today he had no choice. Today he had guests.

And so, rising at the crack of dawn, donned in a frilly lily-of-the-valley patterned apron with matching marigolds, and armed with the best cleaning supplies Sweden (dammit) had to offer, Finland had set upon his small cottage, his years of gruelling military training and sharp soldier instincts offering him very little help against pulling hair out of drains. Several hopeless times – especially after a particularly draining battle with the water rings on his coffee table and the surprise ambush by a well-trained battalion of spiders – Finland had seriously considered throwing down his tea-cloth and toilet brush and surrendering. It was on these occasions that the Winter War seemed preferable to reaching down into that dark abyss between couch and wall to retrieve a forgotten (and smelly) dog biscuit of Hanatamago's. But every time the increasingly attractive idea of submitting to the wine stain on the carpet presented itself, so did the image of his guests' disgusted expressions as they encountered said stain. Their horror at stumbling upon a dirty sock, disapproval of a smudged wall, bemusement at the stains on the ceiling from his drunken attempts to create Salmiakki soup – the very thought of it was enough to steel his resolve and obliterate any lingering wussiness on his part.

And no, he wasn't entertaining royalty or particularly thorough ceiling-inspectors – just the old Nordic gang; Sweden, Denmark, Norway and Iceland popping round for beer and a catch-up (and maybe a few jabs at each other's' Eurovision entries this year).

Normally this kind of casual get-together wouldn't elicit such a manic house-beautification, but it had been so long since all five had been in the same room together (thanks to some stressed bosses, mountains of paperwork, and Denmark's irritating attempts to build a bridge between him and any neighbouring Nation who stood still long enough) and long periods of absence always lead to one thing; teasing. The longer the wait, the more relentless the jokes at each other's expense – it was how they showed love.

But this time, Finland wasn't going to give them any fuel. His house would be spotless, his country free of scandal, and his beloved (yet tacky – so _tacky_) Moomin clock stuffed away in the cupboard under the stairs. Because that's what this was all about. Pride, dignity, respect – nothing to do with the fact that this would be the first time Sweden would be visiting him since he helped him re-decorate. Nope.

…ok, maybe a bit.

Despite being neighbours and sharing custody of a micro nation and a small puppy, the two's recent busy schedules had made meeting up an impossibility. At best they'd pass each other in the morning en route to see their bosses – maybe carpool if they were attending the same meeting – but these small snatches of Sweden were nowhere near enough to satisfy Finland, even if it meant his heart beat less erratically and he blushed less…

"Mama?" A little voice chirped behind him, snapping Finland out of his meditations as he finally ceased prodding the pillows into place.

"Sealand! What did I tell you to call me?" Finland sighed, ignoring his admittedly mother-like appearance and removing his apron and gloves.

"Right! Sorry, Mam— er, Finland?" Sealand pressed his lips together and tried to stifle a giggle at Finland's miffed expression.

"Yes?" Finland sighed, spotting Wy hovering behind Sealand - a painful reminder that his little boy was growing up (mentally, at least).

_Not that it bothers me too much, I mean it's not like I'm his mother or anything and – wait, did I just refer to Sealand as 'my little boy'?_

"Wy and I are gonna play in the snow!" Sealand once again caught Finland mid inner-monologue, "Did you know that over at Wy's house they don't have any snow, not even in winter!" Sealand exclaimed with shock.

Finland smiled softly; he'd reacted the same way when he first stayed over with Finland and Sweden and freaked out at the distinct lack of English Channel, "Sure, but don't be too long; Sweden, Denmark, Norway and Iceland are coming over soon," Finland gushed, rushing over to fix a crooked photo frame.

"Yay! Papa will be here!" Finland tutted and "forgot" to correct him.

"Yes, yes. Oh, take Hanatamago with you, she needs a walk," Finland said, scooping up the fluffy little dog and depositing her in Sealand's awaiting arms. Sealand nodded and skipped out the door with Wy trailing sullenly behind.

Finding himself with a few minutes spare and now filled with an obsessive need to clean, Finland began dusting the pictures on his mantelpiece. There was one of Estonia, Latvia and himself, laughing carelessly in the middle of a particularly infamous festival of theirs, himself and a thousand other Santas at America's last Christmas party, a candid shot of the Nordics at a Eurovision after-party (all equally smashed) and lastly, a professionally done portrait of his little family unit that Sweden had suggested on a whim after receiving a voucher from his boss. The four of them were huddled together in a mad mass of limbs and grins in front of the typical blue background; Finland and Sweden beaming (well, in Sweden's case, giving a friendly scowl) with a giggling Sealand and hyperactive Hana snagged in their arms. Losing himself in the cheerful scene, Finland was struck by how strongly they resembled an actual _family_. The photographer hadn't seen Finland, Sweden and Sealand – two countries and a sea-fort, respectively - through his lens; he'd seen Tino, Berwald and Peter – two parents and a child. Nothing more, nothing less, and it showed. Finland wondered fleetingly how it was possible for such a silly notion to warm his heart so. He tittered as the implications of being part of this family (his new favourite word) sunk in. That really would make him Sweden's 'wife' in a way… why didn't this idea seem as wrong as it probably should have? He had to admit, there were worse things than being married to Sweden… they could call each pet names, be the first person the other saw in the morning and the last at night, hug and kiss and tell each other how much they loved each other and –

_Ding dong_

Finland could have thrown his Moomin clock at the doorbell for interrupting his fantasy (but didn't, because he loved that tacky, tacky, tacky clock – plus, that would be crazy).

Instead he smoothed down his jumper (wool can crease, true story) and sauntered happily to the door, opening it with a flourish.

"Sweden! Norway! Iceland! So great to see you all!" he exclaimed, launching himself at his friends in a whirlwind of hugs and kisses on the cheek. In his enthusiasm, he failed to notice the absence of a certain bone-crushing hug and beer-laced breath on his cheek, "Hey! Where's Denmark?" Finland peeked behind the trio, half-expecting a snowball to hit him in the face, followed by raucous laughter.

The three nations exchanged troubled looks whilst Norway's face visibly became more pinched.

"Mm, we went t' go get h'm," Sweden mumbled.

"But when we stopped by his house, he never answered the door," Iceland quietly sighed.

"He's most likely passed out on his couch, stone-cold drunk," Norway remarked drily, the usual venom present in his voice when insulting Denmark noticeably forced-sounding, "I was there last night, he was sober-ish when I left… but he wasn't too happy," Norway explained, avoiding the sharp looks the others sent him.

"So, essentially, you got pissy with him and upset him so he drank himself into a coma?" Finland stated, the corners of his mouth drooping downwards. He wasn't sure what was more depressing; the fact that their night of together-ness was ruined, or that he'd cleaned his house for nothing.

"F'nland, y'ok?" Sweden asked, frowning at Finland's dejection.

"Well, to be honest, I was really looking forward to us all being together again, it seems that lately everyone's been too busy," Finland mumbled, bowing his head and trying not to sulk.

"Mm, well l'ts go then," Sweden announced decisively, turning back the way he came as the rest followed bewilderedly after him.

* * *

"Uh Sve, where are we going?" Finland asked, quickly trotting beside him to match the Swede's determined strides.

"Yeah, Sve, what are we doing?" Iceland added, struggling to catch up with the two whilst simultaneously dragging his reluctant brother behind him.

"We're goin' t' help Denm'rk," Sweden stated flatly in a voice that implied it was obvious.

As they approached Denmark's door, they were faced with an unforeseen problem.

"The door's locked," Norway stated, twirling round and stomping away.

"Doesn' look too sturdy," Sweden mused, taking a few steps back and calculating the force needed to smash the thing off its hinges.

Iceland glared at his brother's retreating back, "You have the spare key," he said, stopping Norway dead in his tracks.

Narrowing his eyes and grumbling, Norway cautiously pulled out keys and unlocked the door. They stumbled in and Finland gripped on to Sweden's arm as they walked through the hallways of Denmark's (suddenly impossibly creepy) house. Sweden didn't seem to mind too much, judging by the way he squeezed Finland's hand. The house was dark and the already overwhelming smell of cheap beer got stronger as they got closer to Denmark's living room.

"Yo Den!" Iceland shouted through the dark, icy room while Sweden fumbled around for a light switch.

"Ahhhh!" came Denmark's agonised groan as the light mercilessly flooded the room and scorched his poor retinas.

Finland stared at him in shock, he'd seen Denmark go through every stage of inebriation possible, but he'd never seen him this bad or anything close to this. Beached on his stained sofa, drowning in a sea of cans, bottles and vomit, the tall Danish nation gave a sloppy attempt at a cheerful grin (exposing yellow teeth and sending a toxic cloud of beer-breath their way). His eyes were crusty and red with aggressive purple circles smudged underneath whilst his insane, gravity-defying hair had deflated and was hanging in tangled, matted clumps over his sallow skin. Whatever Norway had done, it had been _bad_.

Sweden turned to Finland, his brow skimming the bridge of his nose in worry. Iceland gasped whilst Norway paled and ran out the room.

"Hey guyssssssssssssssch! Isch good to schee ya!" Denmark slurred, taking a generous gulp of beer and hiccupping. Sweden marched over to him and picked up the bottle of beer and furiously smashed it on the ground.

"Wh't d'ye think yer doing!" Sweden yelled at him, but Denmark just shrugged and giggled.

"Hee hee! Hey, Schve, yer fasche looksch scho funny right now! All red like one o' thosche red thingsch… ya know… a lemon! Yeah!"

"Moron! Sweden just asked you a valid question, you stupid arse!" Norway re-entered the room, a damp flannel dripping from his clenched fist. He steamed over to Denmark's spot on the couch and slapped it on his forehead, turning his head sharply away to study the wall.

"I…I'm schooorrrryy, Norge! I don't wanna schee ya or Ice or little Finny or even lemon-boy here upset, ya schouldn't have come back ta meeeee…" Denmark sputtered as he collapsed back onto the couch, "I'm a horrible big brother mentor…" he mumbled as he slid into unconsciousness.

* * *

Norway glared at Denmark as he sat with his head hidden in his hands – partly out of shame, mostly because he had the most poisonous hangover known to nation-kind. Unable to stand the stench of cheap German beer and Danish vomit, the four nations had dragged Denmark back to Finland's house, reasoning that the snow in his face might help sober him up.

"Well, that's the bathroom mopped up," Finland announced, putting a mop back in the cupboard, next to Moomin. Sealand was over at Wy's house with Hanatamago to avoid them seeing Denmark in this state. They all sat in silence, soaked to the bone after having to endure the traumatic experience of bathing Denmark - which was surprisingly hard to accomplish when you had your eyes squeezed shut.

"Look guys, you didn't need to come over and take me back here - and you REALLY didn't need to give me a bath," A groggy Denmark said, taking a sip of coffee.

"Now, Denmark, you're going to have to cut down on the beer," Finland explained, handing out dry clothes to his friends.

Too drained for modesty, they simultaneously stripped in the kitchen and shivered as they struggled into Finland's tiny clothes.

Finland pretended he didn't notice Sweden ogling him, whilst surreptitiously sneaking a few peeks himself – momentously glad that Sweden had left some old clothes here the last time he stayed over with Sealand – he didn't think his heart could take the sight of Sweden bursting out of a pair of way-too-small jeans of his.

"Yeah, yeah, I know, I know!" Denmark sighed as he zipped up a hoodie, "I'll try to limit myself to five a day – that works for fruit, right?"

"No, Den," cut in Norway icily, "It doesn't work like that, idiot."

"Eh?" Denmark gaped, perplexed.

"Besides – after today's display – we think it would be best if you cut beer out of your life completely," he finished, glaring at Denmark's wounded expression challengingly.

"WHAT?!" Denmark fell of his chair, "I know I went overboard - but that was a one off!" Denmark rapidly protested, despite his unimpressed audience, "Besides... I had my reasons, and I swear I'll never do it again," Denmark continued as he stared balefully at Norway who was now avoiding eye contact.

A frosty silence engulfed the group as the space between Norway and Denmark filled with tension. Finland, Sweden and Iceland all exchanged knowing looks before Finland coughed.

"Well, I'll go get fire wood. It's getting chilly," he said, yanking on a coat.

"Mm, I'll c'me with ya," Sweden mumbled to him.

"Ok!" Finland smiled, studiously ignoring Denmark and Norway's murderous expressions as he slid on a pair of wellingtons.

"Bye guys! We'll be back soon – just talk amongst yourselves; the time'll just fly by!" he chirruped, grinning almost evilly as Iceland smirked at the two seated nations' mounting discomfort and annoyance.

Finland chuckled. Sometimes you have to troll in order to make cleaning your house worthwhile.

* * *

Finland beamed as he walked through the snowy forest with Sweden. He gazed at the bare trees with snow piled on the branches, the sky was getting slightly darker as the snow was getting thicker.

"Was it wise to leave them alone together back there?" Finland wondered aloud, juggling the firewood in his arms.

"Prob'bly not," admitted Sweden, "But it'll do 'em good t' get their issues out in th' open," he smirked slightly, "Iceland'll make sure o' that."

Finland shrugged. If they messed his house up, they'd damn well be the ones cleaning it this time, "Do you think we've got enough?" Finland wondered, peeking over the mountain of firewood in his arms.

"Considerin' ye never needed any in th' firs' place, I'd say so," Sweden replied wryly, winking as Finland burst out laughing.

"Sealand keeps referring to us as his parents," Finland chuckled, deciding to randomly toss that out there. He wasn't sure if it was the cold but Sweden appeared to be blushing.

"Well, y'are m'wife." Now Finland was blushing.

Walks with Sweden were usually quiet, but in a familiar, comfortable way. Sometimes Finland would stuff the silence with endless, bubbly chatter whilst Sweden hmm'd in response, and others, like this instance, the two would just tranquilly stroll, casually flitting in and out of conversation as the mood took them.

"Ooh! Sve, look!" Finland pointed towards a rather insignificant looking stone as though it held the key to the world's well-being.

"A stone?"

"It's shaped like Moomin, Sve! Moomin!" Finland exclaimed excitedly, gesturing wildly towards the thing.

Sweden squinted. Then removed his glasses. Then tilted his head to the left.

"S'pose it bears a sligh' resemblance…"

"I know, right?" Finland giggled and happily toddled over to collect his prize.

"Finl'nd! Careful! S'dangerous!"

Finland laughed as he continued to make his way towards 'Moomin'. Sadly, just when he got close enough to realise it really didn't look much like Moomin after all, his foot caught on a sneaky, hidden branch and he pitched forwards, arms flailing madly as he hit the slippery ground and shot down the slope like a bullet.

"Finl'nd!" cried Sweden as Finland slid down the deadly mixture of compacted snow and ice towards a cliff edge. Why did he have to choose the cottage with the crazily high altitude? Was it really worth the eggshell exterior…?

…ok, yes.

"Argh! Sweden, help!" Finland called as he slid perilously close to the edge.

"FINLAND!" Sweden screamed as quickly bolted over to Finland.

Finland screamed as his feet dangled over the edge and his stomach performed a complicated gymnastics manoeuvre (which, incidentally, would have earned ten points at the local gymnastics contest – but that's not really relevant) as his hands scrambled and raked across the slippery surface for purchase. Sweden gripped onto Finland's arms and attempted to pull him up but the ice – because clearly it hadn't quite proved itself to be a big enough arsehole by this point – though 'nuh-uh' and so Sweden began slipping too.

"Sweden! Stop! You're going to fall too!" As was the ice's plan.

"I'm not l'tting go!" Sweden yelled, his mind drifting irresistibly back to one of America's movies – why was he getting a sudden urge to dangle over the edge of a cruise ship?

"I don't want you to die! I'll fall either way – I don't want to take you down too!" Finland cried, the movie also entering his head, "But before I do, I need you to know that I love you! Sweden, I-LOVE-YOU!" Finland admitted, tears were in his eyes and now his cheeks were as red as rubies or something equally as symbolic.

"I love ye too, 'nd that's why I can't - 'nd won't let ye go," Sweden whispered to him and continued to try pull him up. Sweden pulled with all his strength, manly tears were also in his eyes, then he eventually managed to pull Finland up. Finland sighed with relief and coughed as he collapsed to the ground.

"T-thank you Sve," Finland panted and pulled himself up. Sweden tightly hugged him as soon as he stood up. Finland looked at him and kissed him softly on his lips as loud applause from the aforementioned gymnastics contest filtered through the air.

* * *

Iceland sat on Finland's couch while he waited for Sweden and Finland to come back. Denmark was staring at the floor and occasionally glanced at Norway who had stubbornly fallen asleep.

"Den, what's wrong?" Iceland questioned.

Denmark coughed and grinned crookedly at Iceland, "Wrong? Why would something be wrong? Nothing's ever wrong in the house of Denmark!"

Iceland was sceptic to say the least, "So your definition of right is 'to drink oneself into a state of alcohol-soaked, smelly unconsciousness'?"

"Hey! I did not smell!"

"What? Did you think that bath was for fun or something? Hm, Den?"

Denmark just sat in silence then finally answered, "I love Norway," he whispered and paused dramatically, giving Iceland ample opportunity to gasp in shock or faint in disbelief. Denmark pouted when he received nothing but an arched eyebrow and a look that clearly said_ finally! _- before continuing, "I told him last night – he turned kind of purple and his eyes did this creepy sproogly thing before he just stormed out without even saying anything," he frowned and looked so wretched that Iceland briefly wondered if hugs were in order, "He didn't even kick me in the shins or call me an unwashed bike-lover either!"

Iceland sighed, he sometimes wondered which of his four companions was the most idiotic. Finland and Sweden were so obvious that even Denmark had caught on – as for his obstinate, emotionally stunted brother; "He does love you, it will take time for him to admit it but he does, trust me," Iceland shook his head slowly, "Unless we dangle you off a cliff and force him to realise how precious you are to him – if you want to go down the painfully-cheesy-American-movie route…"

"Well, there is a cliff nearby…"

"You know I'm awake," Norway mumbled, opening his eyes wide enough to glare frostily at Denmark, "You unwashed bike-lover," he smirked slightly.

"Norge! You're back!" Denmark launched himself at Norway who squealed (Iceland cursed himself for not recording that) and turned so red that he was almost unrecognisable.

"Get off me, moron," he muttered.

"Waaaaaah! Norge! I knew you didn't hate me! It's so good to hear you insult me again!" Denmark grinned and began rocking Norway back and forth, "Quick, punch me in the face like you used to!"

It was at that moment Sweden and Finland demonstrated amazing timing skills and walked in carrying firewood, Sweden went to go light the fire after kissing Finland on the cheek sheepishly. Denmark blinked at them and Norway lowered his raised fist and chuckled lightly, smiling a little. Iceland contemplated the years ahead of him of fifth-wheeling and knocking on doors before entering.

"So Denmark, you given any more thought to giving up beer?" Finland asked in a deceptively innocent manner.

"But I need it!" Denmark wailed, throwing himself on the floor and clutching his sides in anguish. Norway rolled his eyes and leant down to kiss his cheek.

"For me?" He whispered, expertly widening his oh-so-pretty dark blue eyes and biting his oh-so-wobbly bottom lip. Denmark's face was scarlet and confused.

He grinned and said, "I'll cut back - but I'm not giving it up!" he barked a laugh, "My people would disown me!"

"A sober Dane is a frightening prospect," Norway mused, trying to hide the playful smirk on his face.

Finland cheered and even Sweden broke the laws of physics and cracked a surprisingly non-terrifying smile.

Finland hugged Sweden and kissed him again.

"So I take it you two _finally _hooked up!" Denmark sighed, oblivious as always to the soul-crushing irony.

"Yer one t' talk." Sweden, however, was not.

Denmark shrugged and captured Norway again, "Now we can double date – seeing as we're both couples now! Even better; we'll be a family! You will be the parents, Norway will be your son, I'll be his boyfriend and Iceland can be our pet!" Iceland raised an eyebrow although dismissed that last remark due to the happy occasion and the fact that Denmark is still slightly drunk.

"Oh no…" Norway shuddered, "People are going to think I'm attracted to you or something!"

"Yeah! Let's celebrate with beer!" Denmark smiled then saw the multiple looks he was getting, "Or coffee?"

_**The End**_


End file.
